Winter Days
by All and Sundry
Summary: A collection of short fics and pieces written for the "December Fanfic Challenge" on tumblr. Multi-pairing. Trustshipping, polarshipping, and others as inspiration allows. Rating for possible future content.
1. Somewhere in My Memories

Happy first day of Christmas! I will be participating in the "December Fanfic Challenge" tumblr challenge started this year. Each chapter will be inspired by one of the 31 prompts.

First up is a bit of trustshipping, do enjoy!

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><p>There it was.<p>

The sense that all was right with the world, literally, all balance found...

Then it was gone.

Again.

With a scratchy grate and stifled cry, he knew once more just how hard a sheet of ice was, particularly so under his backside.

A quieter grate from nearby told of company. For once there was no fight to keep his gaze from the automatic rove upward – this time it would have been from a pair of gleaming, dark skates – he didn't care to see her face. No, he'd rather have continued staring down at the blades underfoot and pretend the wetness of the ice wasn't so frigid. Oh no, the cold had _never_ bothered him...

"Seto..?" Her voice was as soft as it was quiet, like a teacher approaching a student who'd imposed residency in a corner upon himself.

Of course he didn't answer. But he didn't have to. A sudden shudder of cold wracked his frame. So it was a little cold... If he wanted to sit and freeze his ass off then that was his business.

A gloved hand came into view and he looked up unwittingly.

"Here," she prompted, "come on."

He sent a scowl up at her. And with something of a horrified thrill, he watched her mask slip... A twitch of lips then she was sliding away ever so slightly, laughter sending up intermittent plumes into the air.

"Just go," he snapped, "I'm fine."

Clearing her throat – twice – she offered him a hand again even while silent laughter shook her shoulders. "I'm not making fun of you."

"Yes you are!" he barked and cast a look around just after, remembering himself.

Mokuba had gone and stayed so, wise choice on his part.

"No!" Ishizu tried to protest but was cut off by the return of her own laughter. It was only after a moment that she tried again, words still broken up even so. "It's... the looks... you are cute, that's all..."

She finished and raised a hand, carefully touching a gloved finger to the corners of her eyes in the case that a little tearing up was marring artful smudges.

For a moment his brows rose but they fell again all too quickly. Sniffling faintly, she looked down at him. He sat, ends of his skates stuck in the ice as if he feared he'd slide otherwise. Irritated breaths sent out faint clouds and the scowl was back already, between the cold-willed rosiness across his cheeks.

She offered two hands and they were soon locked a vice grip even after he'd gotten to his feet again.

"Seto..." she breathed, "you can let go now."

And he hadn't.

Ishizu skated backwards slowly, bowed slightly since Seto was, slow fluidity where he was stock-still and allowing her to pull him steadily along.

After a glance over the shoulder to make sure she wasn't skating too close to the edge, she looked up to him. "You can–"

"No."

"All right."

A good half hour was spent talking him into letting go of one hand but no amount of quiet prodding would have him let go of the other. And so the cold afternoon went on with the pair hand in hand over the ice.

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><p>This prompt was 1. "ice skating" and in case you hadn't guessed, chapters are named after whatever Christmasy type song I was listening to while writing.<p>

Reviews are appreciated and feel free to follow or favourite to better stay tuned for updates.


	2. We Three Kings

Day 2 of the "December Fanfic Challenge" of tumblr. I'd like to note that this isn't a story but rather just moments interconnected or not, you may interpret them however you like. That said, we're sticking with trustshipping once again though this time around it comes with with a hint of polar and peach if you squint...

Nothing to warn about aside from a bit of language and general silliness.

Thanks go to **Alkonost Storm** for linking me to some crucial information!

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><p>"Okay so..." a voice trailed as springs protested antsyness, "who's bright idea was it to hang up the <em>stuff<em>?" He settled into his end of the couch, or tried to, once more. Evidently he failed, if the first then second rake of one hand through his blond hair was any indication.

"Well," a second voice, burgeoning on a deep timbre, was just as hesitant in answering, "I think Téa bought it..." He looked across the room to the brunette who made a little wave.

"Oh so it's _your _fault."

From opposite ends of the couch, the two leaned forward enough to catch one another's gaze.

"How is this my fault?" was the squawk in turn.

"She's _your _girlfriend, you shoulda stopped her," he said. "Apparently she's got you doin' anything. Tinsel in your hair even, Yuugi."

"What?" The single word was a horrified gasp. Then bracelets jangled loudly when hands shot up, searching for the scratchy bit, wherever it was hiding amidst the wild colours of his hair. Of course the frantic searching turned up nothing... "Joey stop playing around!"

From one end of the couch, laughter erupted.

Just one sound amidst all the others. Absent chatter wherever a pair of bodies was gathered. From somewhere above, all too cheerful music drifted down as bright and characteristic as all the decoration. Reds and greens and more than enough gold.

Gold...

She didn't have the things in her hair, he was just now noticing. When had she taken them out..? Mental wanderings were interrupted at the banter passing around him.

"Will you both shut up?" A last voice was smooth even through a demand.

"Ah quit bitchin'," Joey shot back and sighed, slouching back against the couch. "'s your fault anyway, Kaiba."

"Well..." Yuugi spoke up. "I think the party _was _Ishizu's idea."

"Yeah!" Joey added, repeating his own words but this time at Seto. "You shoulda stopped her."

Carefully, Seto cast a scowl at him even if, like always, it failed to take effect the way it should.

"Wait I didn't mean it like that," Yuugi said. "I meant if you're going to blame someone then blame Ishizu."

"And by proxy, him," Joey argued.

"Watch it, Wheeler..." Seto threatened.

A sudden collection of laughter dispelled all. It was the three of them, standing in a cluster near an entryway, donned in festive dresses and the like. Arguably, the real source of the issue...

"I bet they're talkin' about it right now," Joey muttered though none too quietly, "who's gonna be the winner or whatever."

"What the hell are you going on about?" Seto asked.

"Them!" Joey proclaimed loudly enough for a certain head to turn, the scrutinizing glance from between thick blonde tresses enough to have him sinking back into the couch. When he spoke again, he was quieter. "None of 'em have managed to catch any of us under that stuff, right..?"

Seto huffed while Yuugi shook his head. Not one had been caught yet.

"That's what they're talkin' about. Who's gonna win. Who's gonna catch one of us first."

"Then nobody moves," Seto drawled and folded his arms, a smile slinking across his lips. "Easy."

A conversationless moment lapsed and the sounds of the party pressed in.

"What about food?" Joey was quieter than ever and suddenly grave.

Seto could only sigh, exasperated, while Yuugi pressed."What about it..?"

"I haven't eaten yet," he complained, clutching at his stomach with a whine.

"I already did," Yuugi offered.

The noise from Seto was something akin to arrogance unarticulated. The temperament wasn't due to last...

"I saw those things she made..." Joey leaned nearer to Seto. There was little guessing at the 'she' in question or what he was getting at and he'd rushed before Seto got a reply out. "Still wrapped up all nice... I bet they're real sweet... Aren't they?"

They were.

Seto exhaled slowly if only to hold mastery over his expression. As underhanded as the tactic was, it worked... Halawet Ahmad. He wasn't sure which was better watching her lips wrap around the accented syllables... or the taste of the stuff... Notes of faint coconut entwined with almond... the crunch of sautéed Vermicelli...

"Shut up."

In immediate contrast, Joey snickered, clearly pleased he wasn't the only one thinking about food.

"Oh man, Anzu made sugar cookies too." Yuugi groaned. "I forgot about dessert."

"You're the host, Kaiba." Joey sat up. "Can't you just announce dessert time?"

"That would mean getting up."

"Ah, take one for the team, would ya?"

"No."

"We could all get up at once," Yuugi suggested with a smile. "I don't think they could catch all of us at once."

"Nah, too risky. They'll know somethin's up."

"One at a time," Seto interjected, once again quite smug. It was his house after all, he had the place memorised years ago, never mind what had warranted that. "And not that way."

The three looked ahead to the wide entryway the group of young women stood not so far from. Verdant garland was strung up and wrapped about with red ribbon. Down from a bundled bow in the centre were short cuts tied together, little branches stretching into teardrop-shaped leaves.

"Down the hall," Seto added, glancing back over his shoulder towards another entryway. While it too held another bough of the stuff, it was relatively free of certain interested parties...

And that was how the three made it to the kitchen unscathed and celebrated the scheme's success with a premature sampling of desserts.

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><p>This prompt was 2. "mistletoe". Reviews are appreciated and feel free to follow or favourite to better stay tuned for updates.<p> 


	3. The Island of Misfit Toys

Day 3 of the challenge. Time for some polarshipping! Also, this is an extension on the last chapter... Please note all blame is to be directed to **Gweniveve Skyes** for the fluff which is about to ensue.

You're all welcome.

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><p>Where there had only been a couple lights on when a few more suddenly brightened the scene. Three were gathered near one end of the counter, its dark gleaming surface dotted with colours.<p>

Milky chocolate browns.

Rich champagnes of flaky pastries.

Loud red and green spread generously across cookies and in twists atop cupcakes.

Of course a few of all these were held in suspended hands and last bites hastily swallowed as the three's activities were now exposed.

"Seto!" Ishizu cried, quite immediately sure he was the reason the three of them had managed to disappear so successfully. After all, nearly an hour had gone by before she'd noticed the begrudging host to the party had gone missing.

In response he straightened and gingerly set down a half-eaten bit, staring down the end of his nose at the approaching woman.

"I should have known," she accused, lips twitching as she set a hand on her hip. "Your impatience knows _no_ restraint."

Naturally, he folded his arms up tight as he surveyed her. He had nothing more to do than note her presence, "Ishizu."

She sighed gustily, if only for all three to know the fullness of her exasperation. "Sneaking into the sweets like a bunch of _children._"

"If you have nothing else to do than prattle..." Seto was deliberate in trailing to a pause, taking time for a haughty sniff, "then I suggest you leave. I–"

"We," Joey interjected through a mouthful of a sweetened bread none of them had figured out the name of.

"_We_," Seto amended and went on in stride, "are busy."

Gripping the counter, Yuugi barely stifled a giggle and was unable to contribute to the madness for the moment.

"Oh honestly," she complained stuffily, arms mimicking the fold of his, "I'd hardly expect this sort of thing from you."

"It was the only way," Yuugi chimed in and sighed as if dismayed.

"Yeah!" Joey yelled and nearly knocked over the stool he leapt up from. He was quick to jab a finger in Ishizu's direction. "We already know what you guys were planin'!"

"Mm," a hum drifted in from the other entryway, the very one the three had stolen in through. It turned out to be a figure that had Joey wheeling back so fast he bumped into the counter. "Not like it still won't work."

Ruby lips tugged into a small smirk. She kept stationed under the entryway, a gather of bright sprigs not too far above her head and her reaching up towards them as if to pat a precious pet.

"N–Not fair, Mai," Joey stumbled, glancing from one entryway to the next. Ishizu was still too close to the other and as it was, none of the ladies were to be trusted. Period. "You guys can't just trap us in here, ya know."

"Oh hush." She smiled. "You'll be the first one to go anyway and you know it... See, you're already as red as a tomato."

"Ah, quit it. Ya can't just saunter in and-"

"Saunter?" was Mai's amused echo.

"Yeah," Joey was louder the redder his face got. "I know words, ah'right?"

"Mhm..." she hummed, venturing a step closer.

He seemed to forget, making to back up when he was already against the counter. His gaze flicked up, watching as she snapped a tiny branch out from the rest and tucked it oh so delicately under the ribbon holding up her ponytail. This done, she took yet another step in his direction.

"Ya know it doesn't count–"

"Yes it does," she interrupted then pounced, planting a single kiss on his lips before prancing away, laughter drifting behind her.

Heads turned when Ishizu spat something in another language. Turning to go, her hands seemed to hover at her sides where pockets might have been were it not for the current attire being a dress. After all, there were dues to be paid now. Joey had been right all along though there was no way he or his compatriots would've known there had been an actual bet going until then.

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><p>"Why'd you do that anyway..?"<p>

Even recalling the party the prior evening, Joey wasn't so sure what had gotten into her.

It wasn't like public displays of affection were out of the question but... Things were still quite new for the two of them. He'd never given it much thought until now, after it had already happened.

"Mm..?" Mai hummed from where her head lay on his shoulder.

The windows were shut up tight to keep any stray flake from drifting in. The pair sat on the sofa, parked in front of a TV while its low noise filled the apartment with an array of foreign voices, some quite young...

[ _Hey, uh, Clarice, I have to practice... Would ya'... would ya..? _]

"Did what?" she asked.

"Never mind."

At this, she drew up, staring at him pointedly... until he cracked.

"Are you talking about the mistletoe last night?"

"Yeah." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out why it was needling at him.

"Never did that around friends or anyone, I guess..."

And there, she'd put it into words.

"If it bothers you, I won't do it again." She shrugged. "It just seemed like fun."

Joey sighed loudly, shifting where he sat. "Nah, it's not that, uh..."

Nope. He just wasn't going to say it. There was no way _to_ say it.

"Are you trying to say you want to do it again?"

Hearing the truth stamped out there, he swore under his breath, mostly for the heat seeping into his face. She could read him like a book and he still wasn't used to it yet.

[ _Uh-huh..._ ]

"Mai..." He wasn't sure where the sentence was going.

[ _I think you're cute._ ]

Glancing from the sight of little prancing reindeer on the tv, she laughed and tossed a handful of popcorn at him. "You dork."

In the next moment, she'd squealed and pieces of popcorn were everywhere but the bowl. From where he'd launched himself over her, Joey grinned down at her. "Never heard that kinda sound before..." He was reaching with the arm not supporting his weight, fingers ghosting her side.

"Joey Wheeler I swear I will smack you. Don't you dare," she threatened quickly and dissolved into laughs the next moment. She'd hardly dissuaded him, even with feeble struggles, but rather encouraged.

The sounds of the special were drowned out by laughter soon, his and hers.

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><p>This prompt was 3. "watching holiday specials". Stay tuned for updates through December.<p> 


	4. All is Well

Day 4 of the challenge. Switching gears and going toonshipish. Note this is a standalone chapter thing. Additionally, I was informed a couple points in the last chapter were unclear so it has been edited accordingly.

And away we go!

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><p>"Se-to!"<p>

He'd lost track after five different varieties of his name whined up at him from under what was largely a mane of black. Let him add a dozen more, he wasn't to be moved from his perch in an armchair near the window, warmth of his laptop across his thighs actually welcomed for a change...

"At least come outside," Mokuba persisted in his argument. "You can just sit there and look around!"

And freeze his backside against one of those stone benches. No.

"Don't you want to at least go look?" Even the questions were loud. "It doesn't snow this much back home!"

That was true at least...

Through the window was a spread of white, glistening little hills and valleys made from collected flakes hiding away a garden then sloping into a flat space interconnecting the area to another. There were a few trees, dark, naked branches stretching high to the greyed skies.

"You go. Snow hardly warrants a chaperone."

"Quite right, of course," came a sudden voice in agreement. He stood, as festive as ever in red, bits of gold to trim and a scarf wrapped about one end peeking out and pinned with a cluster of rubies in such a way as to make one think of holly.

That was Maximillion Pegasus for you, bits and pieces all arranged to perfection.

Supposedly.

Upon realising his entrance caught an eye, the man beamed and threw his arms open in a grand gesture. "Right but wrong and never mind all that, I'd be happy to join you."

Mokuba cheered and raced on down the hall, their gracious host in a spirited trot behind him.

If only for that, Seto had left his laptop there in the chair and scrambled for his coat. There was no way he was leaving Maximillion to amuse Mokuba.

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><p>The snow glittered with every step, Seto noticed. Though the sky was grey there was still enough sun, he realised.<p>

Ahead, Mokuba's steps stopped and he rounded suddenly.

In the next moment, Maximillion gave a sort of indignant cry as he was pelted with a handful of snow.

So began the fight.

From nearby one of the garden's benches, Seto stood and watched with his hands buried into his coat pockets. Even with gloves his hands felt as if they were icing over slowly. How the two, well several after Maximillion had strong-armed his own staff into play, could dart about when it was so cold.

He winced when a snowball whistled past him and landed behind in the snowdrift against a hidden hedge.

"Sorry Seto!" Mokuba called.

Then it was back to shouts and laughter while Seto set to smoothing out proverbial ruffled feathers. Even while he managed it, the weather outside was just too cold to be standing around idly in. He turned to go, boots crunching in the snow.

The sound behind him began to subdue.

"Oh my..." Maximillion's volume stopped him in his tracks. "Going so soon, Mr. Grinch?"

Seto's shoulders were creeping up without his own notice. Having to suffer the holiday out of the country, in the man's home, amidst the sickening warmth and cheer every day going on two weeks now... This he could tolerate but not the namecalling.

He spun on his heel... Just in time for a snowball to hit him square in the chest, the eruption of flakes up at his face. There was no guess who was responsible. Maximillion held a hand up as if to hide his own mock gasp. Of course, it didn't last long, he was soon clutching a side amidst laughter.

If asked why he did it, Seto would have simply said Maximillion had it coming, the faceful of snow he'd gotten.

And the fight started all over again, this time with the pair of businessmen targeting each other. Naturally, Seto kept a fair poker face throughout, as concentrated as Maximillion was radiating glee.

It all kept on until one became the retreating party: Maximillion's dexterity had finally fallen prey to the cold. Seto moved to end it all, packing a quick bit of snow between his hands, far too much considering how close the man was. But this swing of his arm was definitely the last, Seto slipped on a bit of ice and toppled into the man.

Where they fell, snow went up in a burst.

In looking down, it occurred to Seto that he'd really never had a good look at Maximillian, not his face in its entirety, until then. Deep scars marred the skin about one closed eye and he was flushed from running about in the snow, surprise making fine features blank for but a moment.

All seemed to quiet and it was with a slow sort of curiosity that his gaze wandered Seto's face thoughtfully. Whatever it was he was looking for he must have found as Maximillion laughed, the mirth bubbling out of him too great to contain.

Realization was a second too late for Seto. He'd lingered a moment too long. He was up soon, gloved hands brushing snow off his own coat with undue care. All the same, by the time he looked up, he found a sun-bright gaze on him and drawing away slowly.

Then undeterred, Seto trudged back towards the mansion.

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><p>This prompt was 4. "a snowball fight". Title is Michael W. Smith's song of the same name which I'd give a listen if you've got a moment. It's warm and rich and like a good Christmas song should be.<p>

First venture into toonshipping, you saw it here folks. I can only hope I didn't butcher it _too_ too badly...


	5. Silent Night

And we're back. I've skipped a small chunk of the challenge due to life's getting a little hectic but I'd like to keep going for as long as I still have inspiration for this project.

I began this one some time ago after receiving a prompt on tumblr from **Ali** (harpieshriekings) so thanks go to her for this bit of trustshipping! Additional thanks go to **Alkonost Storm** for having a glance over this before publication.

I hope you enjoy.

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><p>"Someone spent the last bit of a sugar cookie buzz, I see."<p>

A soft voice made quieter.

There on the floor was a body little more than red and green stripes and faint snores filtering through a mess of black hair.

"To be young again."

The voice of before had spoken again. The owner stood next to a massive plush piece, its twin not far yet with many more occupants. Satiny strips of ribbon and half-crumpled lengths of paper, their glossy surfaces reflecting blinking lights, all soft white and too warm reds and oranges.

White. A soaring pine wrapped in twists of lights, draped in sections of silk and round baubles, all manner of silver and gold.

Reds and oranges. A lazy blaze, its snaps and flickers both slow and intermittent there it its greyed stone housing. Only now was it even heard, having been the lowest of all sounds earlier that day.

There had been music, ambient every second, cheerful notes and words easily sung along to, all drifting down from the rafters, some where bits of green leaves hung, wrapped in white trim as if to make innocent their single purpose beyond hung, sparse decoration.

And more, there had been bodies all over the place and the sounds of them. The guffaws of men and chiming giggles of ladies. Clinks of glasses altogether for toasts and sparkling amber to company the finest array of dishes. Jests of sweaters and thundering tramps of shoes across the floor if someone gave chase out from under an archway.

The resulting aftermath was still everywhere. And for once, his ever-present desire for order was quelled. The mess was a reminder of the day itself. It had been the first time playing host for the occasion and the mess all around was satisfying to dwell in, the proof of a party that had gone rather well.

"He's too old to still do that."

A usual, chastising comment though markedly without real weight.

"He's only sixteen."

Blue irises flicked up to those of a close shade. The smile before this other pair was unreturned and still remained. Ceramic was handed off and a sip taken. The warmth eased down his throat, chocolate and a swirl of marshmallow crème.

The mug kept in his hand, high and still as its owner took a curving path through glitter and paper bits dotting the floor and eased onto him.

Mug retrieved, she paused to align her lips with the invisible mark he left along the rim and then had a sip.

A drawn hum of approval and further settling in her curl up against him, mug warming the bronze hands wrapped around it.

It was a quiet moment of rare allowance, both his and hers.

On any other day he might not be slouching into the oversized armchair. On any other day she might not lean her head against the side of his, rubbing against it with her own and ruffling up hair in the process. Like a cat.

"How much champagne did you have tonight?"

At the implication, lips pursed yet soon drew into a little upward curve at pulling back and noting his eyes and the rare glimmer there which could only be seen from up close.

"Teasing, hm?" she lifted the mug to her lips and murmured, "I could ask you the same question, Seto."

"None."

Without having taken her sip, the mug lowered and she peered at him, a glitter of amusement in her eyes to match her lingering little smile. Not a drop of influence could be credited to his demeanour? She wanted to grin at this knowledge but settled for the forgotten sip.

It took time to get here. Where they were now.

Many of her tears.

Many of his mornings specifying all calls be held for the day because he'd lost his voice.

Fighting.

Every time, their destruction would transmute. End in the roughest intimacies they could manage.

And one day she'd had enough.

He told her that Egypt wasn't it, that she would never understand what home was.

But she had after all. A year later.

It was the gaze he rested on her once the sound of her footsteps across the office floor found his ears. The tremorous arms enveloping her. Each dot of his lips to her skin. Until she felt like starlight.

There were moments just as bright. Moments like this night, where the rest of the world faded like warm breath on the winter air.

"Mm?" his question to her silence.

Her answer was in the same vein. "Mm."

A lapse in conversation grew and grew and two partook in the kind of communion afforded by the quiet of a cold Christmas night.

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><p>This was no.10 "hot chocolate". Loose musical inspiration and the title come from M.W. Smith's instrumental entitled "Silent Night".<p> 


	6. Do You Hear What I Hear?

Yes I'm still a day or so behind which I will blame on my internets cutting in and out all evening. But we're still truckin' with a bit more polarshipping.

Due thanks go to **Gweniveve Skyes** for more or less cowriting this with me!

Do enjoy.

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><p>The laughs were loud, as were the thank yous.<p>

Bright crumpled bits lay everywhere. The floor. The empty couch cushion at either side of her.

Somehow it was all dim to her sense, the weight in her chest the only real thing. She hadn't wanted to come in the first place but it had been her idea, so to speak, the vivid details of December in the States enchanting Téa. The girl had set off in a whirl, decorating and planning as fast as she was able what with a week to the day.

The present day.

_It's a family holiday in America._

_Well that's fine. We're all as close as family, if not more._

Maybe that was true.

For everyone else.

They were all over the apartment, nearly paired off. That was how the whole gift exchange thing went, you got a name to buy for, you got something in return. Nobody was left out.

To her credit, she'd made for a fine actress. As if the bit of plastic and scrap of paper between her fingers had something profound scrawled across it. No one had suspected the truth, the lack of any words at all.

It was just a joke like some of the other gifts. She knew she should've taken it in stride but she just couldn't, not when he was the one to give it to her, Joey, having wrapped it up in a little box to disguise.

He hadn't known what to do with her reaction, she could tell. The moment everyone had gone back to milling about the apartment, the whole business of unwrapping over, he still sat there on the floor staring at her, hair more and more a mess the more he kept touching it. Nervously. Thinking.

If there was one thing she remembered her mother saying, it was to conduct herself like a lady. Sometimes that was wrong. Sometimes that was right. Now, it was right, to go and not make a scene.

She stood up, stepping over paper on her way to the door.

A hand caught her arm and it took everything not to jerk away, wheel around and yell at him.

_Don't you know?_

_The way I called up memories of you some nights._

Bright lights in the dark.

When the nightmares found her alone.

It was supposed to be different now. She was supposed to want to stay. But if nothing had changed, what was the point?

Her own footsteps after his down the hall were faint, drowned out by the din of the party left behind as he led the way to his room.

When he let her go, he wheeled around, both hands out. "Just stay, ah'right?"

"I'm not a dog," she snapped, shoving her arms into a fold.

So he'd dragged her away to apologise. Well, that wasn't going to cut it this time. She was trying to imagine the fastest way to say this, looking at the neatness around her. Even then, he'd reached to smooth out a faint crinkle in the blankets before gesturing to the bed itself.

She answered with a raised brow and it took a moment but he'd turned red and sputtered-

"Jesus, Mai, that's not what I meant…"

Perching on the end of the bed, she watched as he pushed the door closed and beelined for the closet. Apparently he wasn't going to initiate all this…

"Look, Joseph, you're sorry I get it. I don't really want to wait around for you to figure out how you want to apologise-"

"Hey," he interrupted, pausing his is search long enough to frown at her, "I never said I was gonna apologise."

Mai sucked in a breath. "Alright, fine then. I'm leaving."

This wasn't enough to stop his search for whatever he was looking for apparently… "Mai come on, will ya just wait a second?"

"I'm not in the mood for your dumb games. You gave me a piece of plastic for god's sake and then you don't even have the decency to apologise. This is _just _like before."

"First of all," he'd answered, stopping to look at her, "okay I guess it is like before… but I thought you were smart enough to figure out what it was!"

She looked at the marbled bit again then to him, just then noticing the neck of an instrument in his hand. And plucking the bit from her, he dropped into the desk chair and ran it over a brace of silvery strings.

Slowly, Mai sat back down.

Leaning over the guitar balanced across his thighs, he held up the bit for her to see. "It's called a pick."

Silently, she folded her hands in her lap, not knowing what else to do with them. Out of all the things that'd been done for her, no one had ever played her song, even the silly one this was bound to be. But the moment he'd opened his mouth, she couldn't remember ever having been so wrong. Each word to succeed the last was anything but silly and from the end of the very first line, Mai felt it.

Anger draining away.

Something breaking.

Something else new seeping from between the cracks.

He had the kind of voice she'd say was just nice, there wasn't a better word for it. Nothing dramatic. Warm and quiet. And then there was the sight of him, a hand plucking lightly at strings, features made still with concentration. He'd caught her eyes once and that was all it took for Mai to resign her gaze to her lap. Of course, he managed to wipe away her determination for apathy. The _things_ he was saying.

_There are those I am sure who have told you, they would give you the world…_

Mai looked up then, very much intending to ask him to stop even if the song didn't sound as if it were ending yet. The words were too grandiose. Too much meaning within them... Hearing more of the song, the idea that he should stop disappeared. And there must have been something about her face by then, since he looked to his guitar as he slowly drew the song to a quiet end.

After the last few notes, he breathed a long sigh, fingers absently drumming the side of the instrument. Looking at her still sitting there, his brow twitched, she'd confused him twice that day…

"Well, I didn't think it was _that _bad."

"Joseph."

"Yeah..?"

"Put down the guitar."

No sooner had he propped it against the desk than Mai had snatched him up by the collar and dragged him to her.

She'd remember that she was the one to kiss first. To feel him answer after a moment's shock. His lips. His shivering breath. For the cold of fingers pressing under fabric and to bare skin.

Neither would've remembered exactly how they'd ended up atop his bed only that it was perfect in being there together.

Finally.

There was but a moment for new exploration... then the door opened with a tell-tale click... and slammed shut. Of course it had gotten a bit quieter in the apartment now… No doubt, whoever it was had taken it upon themselves to tell everyone else…

"I forgot…" Joey admitted sheepishly.

Mai took the time to reach up, smoothing part of his hair back in place. "A private concert sounds nice right about now."

Without a word, he stared down at her trying to figure out if he'd heard right, if she was saying what he thought she was saying.

"At my apartment."

He was still red-faced even after the front door shut behind the pair of them.

* * *

><p>So maybe I finally met rating? Dunno. This was no.11 "secret santa gift exchange".<p> 


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